Moon Spell
by BedeviledME
Summary: Abby is Draco and Hermione's daughter.  In a Child's Gift we learned she was destined for something great.  This is her story.
1. Chapter 1

Time Passes By

Chapter One

As he made his way home from downtown London, the sun warmed his face and a soft wind teased his blonde locks. Spring was finally making itself known after a very cold and long winter. People with errands to run, longer lunches to partake or to simply enjoy the nice weather bustled about the streets.

Draco wasn't thinking about his fellow pedestrians or how wonderfully the weather had turned. His thoughts percolated and hummed with much more important matters; his family and even more importantly, Abby's coming visit. His oldest child was coming home and that was simply cause for celebration.

A woman backed out of shop, cheerfully waving and calling a goodbye to the clerk. Draco deftly sidestepped, avoiding a collusion and continued on his way.

As usual, when he thought of Abby, he thought of the distant past. If he had not decided to lose himself in America's wilderness he might have never met his daughter. Might not, he mused, have ever reconnected with Hermione. He thanked the fates everyday that this was not the case. His family meant everything to him and he couldn't imagine a life without a single member.

These last thirteen years seemingly flew by, almost as if the days had been racing him. It was hard to believe that his oldest daughter had turned twenty-three this past November. Even harder to believe that she was a successful career woman who traveled the world. She no longer needed him or Hermione as she had once upon a time.

That fact of life didn't, of course, ease any of his concerns, fears and worries when it came to Abby. Having learned all those years ago that Abby was destined for something greater than herself had always bothered him. Knowing her beloved pet, Wicker, was more than met the eyes was a constant reminder too.

Shaking the thoughts off with a small effort, Draco forced himself to think of happier things. Not an easy task since happier thoughts would have Abby a little girl again and not a strong and independent woman.

At times it was hard to believe that she was grown up. It felt as if he had only just discovered Abby was his daughter. Hadn't he just waved her off to her first year at Hogwarts? Sadly that had been years ago and even know, the twins were in their second year at the wizards school. Next year Kimber would be going as well.

_Where had the days, weeks, years gone_, he thought ruefully.

Honestly though, he had not a single regret. Abby had grown into a beautiful, independent, strong willed and generous young lady. It saddened him to think she'd chosen a career that kept her away for long stretches of time but it was what she wanted. It was what made her happy and that counted far more than his needs.

A small smile lifted the corners of his lips. Though he loved all his children, Abby held a special place in his heart. Partly because he hadn't even been aware of her existence for the first nine years of her life. Partly because of the supposed destiny she was fated to take part in…whatever that may be. The combination caused him to worry a little more about his oldest.

Remembering his first meeting with Abby, his smile grew a little wider. He had to add stubborn to the list. She had literally barreled into his life, refusing to take no for an answer. He'd been so irritated and mean, yet she had stuck to him like honey to bees. Much more stubborn then he could ever hope to be.

Stubborn and with a quick, fast burning temper. As much as he loved her, he knew her flaws well and admitted - only to himself - that she had them.

Her biggest was the only flaw that worried Draco the most. Despite all the care and love, all the family support, Abby didn't trust easily. Correction, she hardly trusted at all unless it was family or close friends.

Draco often wondered if it was a ingrained genetic flaw since he'd had plenty of trust issues himself. Or had something happened to put a chink in Abby's spirit. He wished he knew, wished he was better at getting his daughter to open up but…

He let the ought go with a sigh. Abby, he knew, would come to him if she needed him. Of that fact, he never had to worry. Coming to a corner, Draco checked for traffic before continuing on.

Abby's choice of career amused him. Investigating history…no, that was wrong. His daughter didn't investigate history, she researched myths, legends and lore. It was a position that allowed her to travel all over the known world. In just this past year she'd been to Japan, America, Africa and Australia. Interesting stuff, he had to admit but what amused him was the idea that she researched Muggle myths and legends.

No matter. She was happy and therefore he was happy. That was exactly as it should be.

Of course he missed her when she was gone but she wrote or called often enough. He might have worried even more if not for the letters and calls. Even then he might have worried a little more than usual except he knew she was well protected. That infernal pet of hers was never far away and protected Abby as if she was a pup and not Draco's daughter.

Draco didn't dislike Wicker but he didn't exactly have any warm fuzzy feelings for the creature masquerading as a dog. It wasn't just the animal's origins or that he was Abby's assigned protector. No, there was also his massive size. It wasn't natural that a dog should be so massive. The "dog" was the size of a small pony and was as tall as Draco's waist, which put the dog well over six feet standing on his hind legs.

Massive and not a dog at all…yeah, Draco had reason to have mixed feelings about Abby's pet.

This wasn't something he wanted to think about though so he tucked the thoughts away. Abby was coming home this evening and he was going to make sure her homecoming was perfect. Especially since she only planned on being home for four short weeks before heading to Ireland, chasing another story. He wasn't going to think about the end of the month though, it would only sour his mood.

Hermione was planning a small party this evening. He had tried to talk her out of it, not because he didn't think it was a good idea, but because it was possible Abby wouldn't feel like celebrating. Traveling was a tiresome business and Abby was more likely going to feel like resting. After thirteen years of marriage thought, Draco should have known talking Hermione out of anything was a fruitless endeavor. He never won.

Glancing at his watch he noticed that it was almost dinner time. He'd promised Hermione to home in time. If he was so much as a second late Hermione was going to toss his ass on the sofa for a night or two…or more. His back protested just thinking about the possibility. He hurried across the street and headed into the Downtown Transport Station.

Around five years ago a rash of magic sightings by Muggle's had caused the Ministry of Magic to make a few changes. After all, appearing and disappearing witches and wizards was not something the Ministry wanted plastered all over the Muggle news. To prevent further sightings, Apparation and Disapparation stations had been erected in strategic places. Draco could have used his London office but since he'd been out meeting a client using the station would save him time.

Inside he joined the shortest line he could find and set about waiting for his chance to travel home.

The Downtown Station had once been an old storage warehouse. The Ministry of Magic had bought the building and after a little renovation, you couldn't even tell that the place had once been used for storage. Booths lined one wall, all painted a rich, deep blue. Above these was a sign that read, _Long Distance Apparations._ A second wall had a long line of cream colored booths and above these the sign read, _Local Apparations_.

A third wall contained fireplaces. Some were enlarged to accommodate families or traveling groups. Smaller hearths allowed for single travel or those in groups of two or three. The Floo Network had been added when someone in the Ministry remembered that not every witch and wizard held an apparation license. There were times when Draco questioned the intelligence of those in office but as he tried not to play in politics, mostly he kept his opinions to himself.

Someone tapped him on the shoulder. Turning he smiled at the small blonde demanding his attention. "Hey, little sister."

"Back at you," she replied. Pushing up on tiptoes she brushed her lips across his cheek. "Hermione popped in earlier for a visit with Mum. Mentioned Abby was due in this evening."

"Yes," Draco confirmed but raised a brow. "That's something I would think you'd know since my daughter calls you more than she does home."

"Don't pout Draco, it's just wrong looking on your mug," she said cheekily. "And Abby did mention it but I'd forgotten."

"Right," Draco drawled in disbelief. His baby sister rarely forgot a thing.

Changing the subject she asked, "Why are you using the station?"

"This was closer," he explained. "Saves me a little time."

"Closer?"

"Meeting nearby with a client," he clarified. "I promised Hermione I'd be home in time for dinner this evening. She's planning a small party for Abby."

"Right," Aria muttered. "She mentioned that when she was over. I won't be there. I've got to pull a double at Mungo's. Being an intern is hell."

Draco tweaked her nose. "You love every second."

Aria grinned. "I do. Oh, hey, Abby and I have plans to get together in a day or two. I'll try to arrive early so we can have a little family bonding time."

"I'll look forward to it," Draco answered sincerely. Drawing Aria into his arms for a hug, he noticed a dark haired young man staring avidly at him and Aria. More pointedly at Aria. "I do believe you have an admirer."

Aria shot a look over her shoulder. "Oh, you mean Michael. He thinks hanging by my side every second of his spare time will get me to change my answer."

"What answer would that be?"

"A date," she replied, wrinkling her nose. "He doesn't tickle my passion bone."

Draco almost choked. "Your passion… You know what. Never mind. That is not something I want to think about. At all."

Her grin was pure mischief. "Oh."

"Yes," Draco agreed firmly. "I do not want to think about my little sister and…, and…"

"The word you're searching for is sex," Aria teased.

Draco groaned dramatically. "Really, Aria. No more. Please."

"Oh, alright," she pouted. "Just go ahead and forget that you heard the word sex in conjunction with your little sister."

"I will, thanks," he informed her happily.

She pecked him on the cheek once again. "Your stuffy and boring, Draco. You're turning into mum."

"I am not," he protested in mock horror.

"You are," she insisted. As she started to turn away she said, "Mum doesn't like hearing about my passion b -"

Draco slapped his hands over his ears and made a face of horror, making Aria laugh delightedly as she skipped away. Shaking his head, half amused and half appalled, he pivoted to face forward and shuffle along with the slow moving line.

Even his baby sister was all grown up and if she was having…oh no, his mind shied away from that particular topic. There was no way he was going to think of Abby having sex. He didn't even want to think of her kissing a boy. Thank you but no thanks, he'd maintain the illusion of her innocence until he could no longer deny.

Hopefully, that day would never come.

When Draco pushed open the front door of home, he came face to face with Missy, their live in cook. Her hands were fisted and planted on her hips. Her features were screwed up in a scowl of annoyance. He didn't even have to ask, all he said was, "Kitchen?"

"Where else?" she grouched.

Hiding a grin he headed straight back to the kitchen.

Hermione was there, half bent over a large black pot. Her face was partially hidden behind a curtain of hair but what he could see told him the entire story without having to hear a word. Silently amused, he slipped a little further into the room. Every couple of months his loving wife tried her hand at cooking. Every couple of months she failed.

Quietly he came up behind her and wrapped his arms around her waist. Pulling her back against his length he bent close and asked, "What have you burned this time?"

Tilting her head against his shoulder she looked up at him. Her lips were pulled down in a slight frown. "Stew," she muttered. "Plain old stew. Simple, basic and I messed it up."

"Don't you think it's time to admit defeat," he asked as he always did when Hermione tried her hand at cooking. "Admit that the one thing you cannot do and will never be able to do is cook. It's easy, I promise."

"I may be smart but I can't seem to admit anything." She turned in his arms and encircled hers around his waist. "Doesn't matter. I'll Vanish it and try again another day. How was your day?"

"Not nearly as entertaining," he admitted. He bent lower and inhaled her scent. "You smell delectable."

"You're nuts," she joked, lightly slapping his shoulder and chuckling. "I smell like burned rubbish. You, however, do smell good enough to eat."

He winced. "Don't even think about it. I don't relish the idea of getting Vanished after you've burnt me to a crisp."

She punched him in the shoulder. "So not funny." A moment later she took the sting out of her jab by pulling his head down and kissing him. A very long, very satisfying kiss that put him in the mind for other things. To bad she didn't have the same thought, which showed when she said, "Could you help Missy in the Parlor while I go up and -"

His lips covering hers prevented her from saying anything more. Melding his lips against hers, he tasted and teased until she melted in his arms. Pulling back and grinning like a fool, he said, his voice husky, "Come upstairs with me. There's time before Abby and our guests arrive."

He could tell by the desire swirling in her eyes that she was tempted but duty won out. "No. There's still too much to do. Kimber wants me to do her hair and I have to get dressed but before I can do that, I have to shower. There's no way I'm going the rest of the evening smelling like burnt stew."

"Stop. Stop, please," Draco pleaded. "You're making my head spin. Tell me what you need to me to do?"

"Missy can tell you," Hermione replied. "She's on decorating detail. I'll head up and start with Kimber."

As he saluted and turned, Hermione watched until he was out of sight. After he was gone she turned back to the failed stew, vanished it and left the kitchen too.

So much to do and so little time.


	2. Chapter 2

Silver

Chapter Two

Hermione stopped on the threshold of her youngest daughter's room. Kimber was only ten, soon to be eleven but with three older siblings she was precocious for her age. Watching her, Hermione's heart swelled and her throat clogged with emotion. In a matter of months Kimber would be heading off to Hogwarts. Hermione was dreading that day because her baby's would all be gone.

First Abby had gone and grown up; becoming a young woman Hermione was proud of and happy for. Then the twins had started Hogwarts two years ago. In no time at all her baby would join them. Where had the time gone?

Thankfully she had hobbies, friends and a very living attentive husband. If she didn't have those things she might have lost her dignity and her sanity when the last of her children joined all those other eleven year olds on that first trip across the lake.

Watching Kimber for a moment more, Hermione marveled at how beautiful her children were. Abby had grown into a beautiful young woman. Sidra was well on her way to being as gorgeous as her older sister. As was Kimber. Though with her youngest, Hermione had a feeling she was going to have to be super vigilant.

Already the child acted like a diva. As Hermione watched, Kimber held one dress after another up to her in front of the mirror before tossing it aside. Kimber wasn't vain, she had no idea just how pretty she was, but she was fashion conscious. More so then either of her sisters had ever been. In some ways Hermione almost wished Kimber had been another boy. Compared to her three girls, Lucian was almost easy to understand.

Tapping lightly on the open door she let her youngest know she was there. Only when Kimber turned did she say, "I think the lavender, with the darker swirls would be lovely for this evening."

Kimber's soft pink lips curled up into a smile. "I was thinking the same thing, mum. Are you here to help me with my hair?"

"I am," Hermione agreed. Kimber was still at the age where her mother's opinion was welcomed. In another year or two that too would be a thing of the past. Thankfully she could look forward to its return if Abby was an example to go by. Tossing such melancholy thoughts aside she asked, "What have you got in mind this time, Kimber?"

Kimber's eyes lit with pleasure and she gushed, "There's this really cool up-do I want to try. I have a photo. I found it in a Muggle fashion mag. One of those you got me on your last trip into London."

Hermione hid a sigh. "Let me see. I'm not promising anything but I'll do my best, even if I have to use a little magic to make it happen."

"Thanks, mum," Kimber cried out happily. "You're the best."

A half hour later, Kimber's hair done and admiring herself in the full length mirror, Hermione headed into the master suite at the end of the hall. Closing the door behind her, she leaned back and then jumped with a small cry when Draco said, "Kimber's all set now?"

Pressing a hand against her chest as if it might slow the rapid beat of her heart she nodded and then scolded, "Don't do that. I think you just took a few years off my life."

Draco chuckled. "I happen to sleep here too."

"Hmm," she agreed.

"You look as if something's bothering you," Draco inserted with some concern. "What is it?"

"Nothing," she promised and to make sure he believed her she stepped into the circle of his arms. "Just thinking about how fast our babies are growing up. Makes me long for those early years."

"Ah," he breathed against her hair. "That I can relate too. I've been thinking along the same lines today."

She tilted her head back and lifted with her toes so she could plant a light kiss over his lips. "Have you?"

"Hmm," he murmured, plucking gently at her bottom lip with his teeth. "Want to have another?"

"Another what," she asked in whisper as she let herself become consumed with the things only Draco could make her feel.

"Baby."

She blinked and stepped back. "Are you crazy?"

His eyes twinkled. "Not the last time I checked."

With narrowed eyes she studied him. "Sleepless nights, bottle feedings, diaper changes, colic, spit-up, late night sick bed vigils - the list is endless - and you want to have another? You have lost your mind."

"Have not," he assured her, pulling her close once again. "I was teasing. It got you out of your funk, didn't it?"

Not able to argue with that she said, "Right. I love my children but there's no way I want another."

"Good to know." He bent low and kissed her sweetly. "Just remember, it's still an option if you change your mind."

"Uh-huh," she murmured against his lips.

He chuckled. "I love how babies are made so I promise, I won't object."

Hermione did laugh then. "If its sex you're after you'll have to wait. I still have a hundred things to do."

"I know," he said with a forlorn sigh. "Still, I hope you've set aside time for me later."

She patted his cheek affectionately. "Of course I have."

With a soft smack to her bottom he said, "Go on, get showered and changed before I forget our daughter is coming home soon."

With a throaty laugh Hermione headed into the bath.

Draco grinned widely and with a little whistle left the room before he was tempted to follow his wife into the bath. Coming down the front staircase he had just reached the bottom step when chimes echoed throughout the house. Since Abby wouldn't ring the bell Draco strolled over and answered the door.

Harry and Ginny Potter, along with their youngest daughter, Anamarie were waiting on the front porch. Draco lifted a single brow. "A bit early mate, aren't you?"

Harry shrugged. "Sure but as I've been meaning to talk to you I figured you wouldn't mind."

"Not at all," Draco agreed cheerfully enough. After shaking Harry's hand he grabbed Ginny into a brief hug. He copied the gesture with Anamarie. "You even beat Abby."

"Didn't really consider that far ahead," Harry admitted. Moving inside so Draco could close the door, Harry added, "Wasn't really thinking at all except for catching you before the party started."

"That you've done," Draco replied. To Anamarie he said, "Kimber's in her room if you'd like to go on up."

"Yes, thank you, Uncle Draco." In a flash she was gone.

Ginny raised her eyebrows, shook her head and then asked, "Hermione?"

"Our room," Draco answered. "The bath actually but I'm sure she won't mind you for company."

Chuckling Ginny started up the stairs. "Meaning you tried playing and she turned you down."

"You know, there's something wrong with you knowing about my sex life," he muttered. "Harry, can't you control her."

Harry snorted and wisely said nothing.

"Coward," Draco muttered just loud enough for Harry to hear.

Harry, feeling safer now that his wife wasn't within hearing distance said, "Damn right I'm a coward. The couch is not the most comfortable thing to sleep on."

"Don't I know it," Draco granted. "Come on, we'll go into my office, have a little drink while we talk."

"Perfect."

After Draco poured them both a small decanter of brandy, they took seats in the corner chairs beside a small fireplace. Draco took a small sip of the amber liquid before asking, "So, what's on your mind?"

"Nothing that couldn't wait, which is the reason I haven't made a point of getting a hold of you," Harry assured. "I have a regular, a muggle, that I thought might benefit from your expertise."

"Oh," Draco murmured, looking amused. "This customer's name wouldn't happen to be John Silver, would it?"

Harry laughed. "It is. I take it he's already contacted you."

"About three weeks ago," Draco explained with a small laugh. "Mentioned you, which is how I knew who you were talking about just now."

"Ah, yes, I did mention you to him," Harry replied easily. "He wants a necklace found, doesn't he?"

"Hmm, yes," Draco agreed with a nod. "Though I have to say I don't think it's going to be easy, maybe even impossible to locate."

"Oh?"

Draco lifted a shoulder, let it fall. "Mostly a waste of my time and Silver's money if you ask me. There's no actual proof the necklace he wants even exist and that's just one of the obstacles standing in the way."

"What are the others?" Harry inquired curious.

"If it is real and I'm beginning to think it's a figment of some muggle's imagination, it's got a horrible and sketchy history," Draco described. "If it is real, I'd like to find it though."

"Why?"

"Because it supposedly holds a curse," Draco told him. Harry nodded knowingly. "I wouldn't mind locating it and lifting the curse, if there is one. But like I said, I seriously doubt the necklace is real."

"John did mention that, about the possible magical properties," Harry mused. "It's one of the reason's I mentioned you to him. What's this about a hazy history?"

"It's only referenced a few times that I've been able to find," Draco answered. Getting up he went over to his desk, rummaged inside the bottom drawer for a moment and then came back. When he did, he handed Harry a small file folder. "Here's what I have. Painfully thin and wholly inadequate."

Harry took the folder and opened it. On the very top was a pile of photos. He lifted them, one by one. "Pretty piece. Stunning really."

Draco agreed, saying, "Yes, but if you notice, each photo is different. It's one of the reasons I don't think there is a real one floating around."

In all the photos, though, there was a common theme. In the center was a rounded stone, Harry suspected moonstone but he wasn't a jeweler so couldn't be sure. On each side gemstones, one jade and the other ruby encased the center circle in the shape of crescent moons. In the center of the moonstone two more gemstones, both small and barely noticeable, sparkled. One was crystal blue and the other diamond white.

Looking up from the photo he commented, "Seems to have a moon theme?"

"Hmm, yes," Draco agreed. "If the stories, those I've been able to unearth, are true, that thing is deadly."

"Do tell," Harry prodded.

"All manner of horrible things," Draco replied with an airy wave of a hand. "Claims that the necklace, when worn, causes the wearer to die in some terrible, painful way. Another claim is that the necklace offers immortality to anyone who can harness its power."

"And what power is it supposed to possess?" Harry wanted to know.

"Power over the elements," Draco scoffed his expression a cross between amusement and annoyance. "It's all ridiculous if you ask me. I don't think it's real and even if it is, you know how these things can go. A couple of muggle's die while in possession and suddenly the thing is cursed."

"Can't argue with that," Harry murmured in agreement.

"I told Silver that I think it's a waste of his money and my time but he's insistent that I continue the search," Draco continued, obviously irritated with the muggle's decision. "I mean the last time this necklace, as far as I've been able to track, was last seen in Ireland well over -"

"Three hundred years ago."

Both men swiveled their head to discover Abby standing jauntily in the doorway. Having gained their attention she shrieked with pure delight and flung herself into Draco's lap. Hugging him tight she said, "It's so totally, absolutely, wonderful to see you, dad."

Draco curled his arms around her tightly and had to agree with her assessment. "Damn, Abigail, but it's been too long this time. I've missed you."

"I missed you too." Her voice was muffled since she still had her face pressed into his chest.

"Hey," Harry called lightly. "What about your favorite uncle?"

"What about him?" she teased. "Is he here?"

"Minx."

"Always," she agreed devilishly as she extracted herself from her father's embrace and jumped into Harry's.

He hugged her close. "Happy to see you, little bit."

After a few more minutes of hugging, teasing and laughing Harry brought the conversation back around to the necklace. "Abby, you know about this necklace?"

Perched in the arm of her father's chair, Abby nodded. "Sure. It's surrounded in myth and lore, isn't it? My job, remember."

"So tell us - why are you shaking your head?"

"No way." She stood, pecked first her father and then Harry on the cheek. "I'm not talking shop. I'm here to relax. Maybe later I'll tell you all about it."

Sweeping out the door she called out one last parting shot, "Besides, the story to that necklace is not something to be rushed."

After she was gone, Harry asked, "Was she correct? This necklace hasn't been seen in over three hundred years?"

Draco inclined his head once. "Yeah. The trail, as I've tried to explain to Silver, has gone icy cold."


	3. Chapter 3

Myths and Gods

Chapter Three

Hours later, the house empty of guests and extended family, Draco sat back in his office chair and rubbed a hand over his face. He had managed to complete a job today and closing the folder he filed it in the completion drawer. The client had wanted a rare and expensive book. It had taken him two long months to locate and secure the elusive item but he'd managed it and as a result had a happy, satisfied customer.

Closing the drawer with a soft snick he caught motion from the corner of his eye. Looking up he spotted Abby leaning with her arms crossed against the door jam. Smiling he invited her to come into the room. "Have a seat. Mum gone to bed?"

"Yeah." She settled into the plush chair across from his desk. "I've just spent the last hour trying to get Kimber to talk about something other than fashion."

"Puzzling isn't it," Draco remarked. "She's a throwback to…I honestly don't know."

"Grams is fond of stylish clothing but she's not obsessive," Abby murmured thoughtfully. With a shrug she added, "I don't think its Grams influence."

"Nor do I." Draco leaned forward, crossing his arms on the desk. "So, did you lose?"

Abby's brow wrinkled. "I lost. She wore me down and I finally tossed in the white flag and retreated."

"She's tough, your baby sister," Draco agreed proudly.

"You haven't got to convince me," Abby retorted dryly. "At least I got her to promise to read the book I got her."

"More then your mother or have accomplished," Draco replied, impressed. "No doubt your mother will be pleased. Tickled to be honest."

Abby nodded once but fell silent for a long moment as she gazed sightlessly into the small office fireplace. Draco had started a small fire but since then it had died to glowing red embers. The moment stretched out but at last she asked, "Dad, did someone hire you to find that necklace?"

For just a minute Draco's brain drew a blank and then it flashed. "Oh. Yes. What has you asking about that?"

"During my last research assignment, I came across the story," she informed him. "It's got an interesting history, as you've probably gathered?"

"I have." He stood and went over to the wet bar. After pouring a small snifter of whisky he joined her on the other side of the desk. "Sketchy too, if you ask me. And not at all believable."

"Yeah, I heard you tell Uncle Harry what you thought," Abby replied softly. "Did you happen to read how the necklace was forged?"

"No," Draco admitted. "I didn't dig that far back."

She chuckled. "Of course. Not going to help you find it so why bother. It's an interesting story."

"Tell me?"

"Are you sure?" she asked skeptically.

He shot her a dry look. "I wouldn't ask if I didn't want to hear it."

"Right." She sucked in a huge breath. "The necklace was forged by a young god, known as Dagger, also known as the Trickster or the Deceitful One. In a few of the fables he stars in, he's not a god but a man granted immortality."

She waved a hand as if waving that information aside. "Mostly though, he's described as a god with immense power and influence among mortals. His pranks and distrustful ways, however, bothered the other gods. They believed he was too cruel and heartless. Whatever a god ruled over, he still had to be fair, even impartial at times. Dagger was never fair and always vengeful."

"Sounds like a real ass -" Draco stopped and cleared his throat.

Abby laughed softly. "I've heard the term, dad and you're right, he was and worse."

"Go on," he growled, not wanting to think about his daughter knowing such things. He still tried to keep her as his little girl and would continue to do so until he was forced - by threat of pain and torture - that she wasn't so little anymore.

"Sure, dad," she replied with a smile that was far too knowing. "The other gods grew tired of Dagger's ways and decided to teach him humility, respect and compassion. The stripped him of his godly powers and sent him out to live among mortals."

"Oh I bet he just loved that," Draco commented sardonically.

"Not at all," Abby concurred. "For years - some have it at fifty others have say a hundred - he lived among mortals but he learned nothing and gave nothing in return. Then, as usually happens, he met a woman. A young maiden warrior called Kistra. He fell hard and for a long while forgot that he was an all powerful god, an immortal creature who had once tormented and played with mortal lives."

"Then came the day that he watched an old man die," Abby continued after accepting a sip of her father's drink, which had become watered down from the ice. "As he watched this man die it hit him smack dab in the center of his chest."

"He was never going to die but he love was going to grow old and parish."

"Right." Abby nodded along with her spoken answer. "It was like a knife to the chest so he traveled for days to reach the place of worship. There he begged the gods to gift him with his powers so that he could save his beloved Kistra. They doubted his word, couldn't believe that he only wished to have his magic back to save a single mortal woman."

"Of course they didn't believe him," Draco remarked. "Not after the way he behaved."

"He was persistent." Abby acted as if her father hadn't spoken. "He begged, pleaded, cried but they refused his request. Desperate he called out to them to make him mortal if they would not grant his first request. This made them pause."

"Did they make him mortal?"

"Dad," Abby said his name on a sigh. "Let me tell it, will you?"

"Alright, sorry." Draco waved a hand to say go on.

"The other gods were stunned. He was asking to become mortal. Was it a trick? Dagger didn't care what the believed as long as they gave him mortality so he could live and die by Kistra's side." Abby pointed a finger at her dad. "Reminds me of you and mum, how much you love each other."

"Really?" Draco was surprised.

"Yeah," Abby replied on a small puff of air. "Anyhow, back to the fable. Hearing his pleas for mortality, the gods made a choice. They returned his power. Delighted, elated, he raced back to the village and Kistra. Only when he arrived, Kistra was gone."

"Gone? As in missing?"

Abby sent him an admonishing look. "Stop interrupting. Kistra wasn't missing, she was dead. During his absence a warlord, feared far and wide, had attacked the village. Kistra, a warrior among her people, had fought bravely but a sword from the enemy had sliced her open. Kistra's father relayed the news to Dagger, telling him how Kistra hadn't died easily, but had lingered for three days in pain."

Knowingly Draco said, "He went on a vengeful rampage didn't he?"

Abby shook her head. "Dad, you are more annoying than a child."

He clamped his lips together and waited for her to go on.

"Funny," she muttered but was grinning. "Dagger had learned many things by loving Krista but revenge was something he knew all about. He crafted a necklace and infused it with power beyond anything a mortal had ever known before. He presented this to a woman wishing for respect and beauty. In return for his blessing, he asked only that she defeat the warlord who had killed his Kistra."

"What - sorry, please go on," Draco said quickly when Abby glared.

"Dagger underestimated the woman's greed," Abby went on to say. "She hungered for more power, more riches, more everything. That power was easily within her grasp as long as she possessed the necklace. Dagger, horrified at the evil his thirst for revenge had unleashed, cast the necklace into three pieces and then hid each piece far from humanity."

"If he -"

Again Draco fell silent with another look from his daughter. "It's said that Dagger refused to return to his rightful place among the gods. He no longer wished to trick and deceive mortals. He became a recluse and was soon a forgotten deity. As for the necklace, a wizard discovered the three pieces and reunited them but he too realized the error of that and once more ripped the pieces apart."

Abby shrugged at this point. "As far as I know, the real necklace, if it exists, is still in three pieces and hidden so deeply away that no one will ever discover them. The curse and the story's surrounding the necklace are a result of replicas and fakes. Though no one has been able to base anything in fact since the last replica to be seen was three hundred years ago in Ireland."

When Abby at last fell silent, Draco said, "Well, that ended very differently then I expected. Usually these things have happy endings don't they?"

"No," Abby denied. "In actuality, most fables end badly or at least not happily."

"Huh!" he sounded genuinely baffled. He turned to look at her a moment and then asked, "Do you believe in these story's you investigate, Abigail?"

Abby lifted a single shoulder, let it fall. "Not every myth or folklore is make believe, dad. There are plenty buried in lies and constantly changing versions. It's my job to dig to the bottom, to find the truth. Sometimes it's just a simple story embellished to make it more thrilling in the telling. Other times it's completely false and other times, it's a little of both."

She hesitated a second and then added, "Did you know that there are times that the things I unearth coincide with our or Muggle history. I don't find it surprising because Muggle's didn't always disbelieve in magic. There was a time when Muggle's embraced magic, believed in it, even considered it perfectly natural. Time, technology and science had stripped Muggle's of their ability to believe. Even so, there are those magical few that refuse to believe the mystery of the world is gone and yet at the same time, they're terrified they just might be right."

"During my research, it's not just the magical world I have to consider, but the muggle one as well." Abby paused a moment and then said, "At times I find a connection between the two worlds. There are also times when I know, can feel, that connection before I even start. Sometimes I believe that there's some truth to what I know and other times I laugh myself silly. It's all in the story, dad, and how well it's told."

Draco considered what she'd just told him for a moment. "So, what you're saying it that some of these old legends and such actually have a smidgen of truth to them?"

"Yep."

"Why couldn't you have just said that?"

Abby groaned. "Dad!"

He tweaked her nose. "Love you, Abigail."

""Love you too, Dad."

Abby left her father's office only to stop a few feet away. With a tilt of her head, she considered what she knew and what she'd just told Draco. Shaking her head, she turned and retraced her steps. Leaning in, she tapped on the frame. "Dad?"

He looked up, his silver eyes seeming to glitter in the soft light. "Abigail? Something wrong?"

No matter how much time passed she was never going to like hearing her full name. He was the only one allowed to get away with not calling her Abby. Letting the subject of names go, as she always did when it came to her father, she said, "No, nothings wrong. That necklace, it's called Moon Spell. The photo you have is probably wrong too. A number of people are actively looking for it, Muggle and magical alike."

Draco raised a single brow. Abby had picked up the same infliction. "Moon Spell? What sort of name is that and why do Muggle's feel the need to name such things?"

Abby giggled. "First, it's not only Muggle's that name articles and the name is derived from its origins. Dagger was also known as the God of Night or the Moon God. Supposedly the necklace's power collects its power from the moon, hence Moon Spell."

"The moon doesn't have magic, Abigail," Draco pointed out.

Rolling her eyes, Abby grinned. "I know that, Dad. You should try reading a Muggle book once in awhile."

"I do. I have," Draco mumbled.

"Not those boring history tombs and such you read," Abby retorted with a short laugh. "There are all sorts of old fables that emphasize the use of the elements, moon, sun and even the stars when creating a spell or potion. Modern Wicca's still put a lot of belief into such things."

Draco nodded, saying, "I know what Muggle's think is witchcraft. A little of it."

His voice was hard and his eyes distant making Abby recalled the time he and Harry had turned to Muggle witchcraft in order to find Abby. "Yeah, I bet you do," she murmured softly. "Can I see the photos you have?"

He rummaged among the papers and folders on his desk a moment before holding up a thin file. Abby closed the distant between the door and his desk and tool the file. Flipping it open she studied the set of pictures inside.

"These are all wrong." She came around the desk to stand at his side. Leaning against him, she laid the photo on the desk and pointed at it. "The real necklace is actually a little simpler in design. A moonstone center with two crescent shapes on the outer edges etched into the stone. Embracing the moonstone is a silver encasing, very thin and delicate looking and what holds it to the matching silver chain."

Pausing Abby studied the photos, her expression a scowl of concentration. "If I recall correctly, the etchings are lined with colored crystal stretched so thin it's like spun glass. It escapes me at the moment but the colors are supposed to represent something."

"If these are wrong," Draco said, tapping the photos, where can I find a photo of the real thing?"

Abby frowned. "The one photo I discovered was in a book in a Romanian library. I suppose you could contact the library, though I can't recall the name of the book so you'd have to describe what you want."

"I can do that." Draco mused.

"It's not going to be much help even if you have a correct image, Dad," Abby told him. "There are plenty of people looking for this thing, have been looking for years and years and are no closer than you are.""You know this…how?"

"Because Moon Spell intrigues me," she explained with an easy shrug. In fact I was going to research it on the side when I go to Ireland at the end of this month."

Draco's expression turned shrewd. "Let me guess, Dunning, Ireland was the last known location of Moon Spell?"

With a soft laugh Abby replied, "Of course. But not the reason I'm headed there. I'll be looking into the Lady of Light's Blessed Ring."

Draco made a face. "The what of the what?"

"Never mind." Abby waved a hand. "It's an old Irish tale. But since I'll be there on business I'll use some of my spare time to look into Moon Spell."

"Do you think the necklace is cursed or really does have magical aspects?" Draco questioned.

With a smile Abby answered, "I think the story of the necklace is interesting and that discovering something new, or better yet, the necklace, would give my career a huge power boost."

"That I understand," Draco replied. Another minute passed before he closed the file and handed it over to Abby. "Here. This is what I've got on the subject. Add it to your notes or whatever."

"Why? What about your client?" Abby asked, her fingers hovering over the folder.

Draco pushed the file into her hand. "You do what you do best, find the necklace, and get the credit and eventually, my client gets the prize."

Abby grinned. "Deal."


	4. Chapter 4

The Stranger

Chapter Four

Entering her bedroom Abby was greeted with low growls and pitiful whines. Wicker, long time companion, pet and best friend, lay across her bed, his puppy dog face aimed in her direction. As large as he was sweet, Abby had a hard time ignoring him even when he wasn't giving her the sad eyed look he was doing now.

"What are you complaining about?" she asked as she placed the file her father had given her on the bedside stand. "You didn't have to smile and play nice all evening."

Lake blue eyes stared back. He woofed softly.

"Yeah, okay." Abby plopped down on the bed beside him and tossed an arm around his neck. "All those kids would have worn me out too. But hey, it's your fault, you know. You should growl and snap more often then they'd all be afraid of you."

He shook his head and rolled an eye in her direction.

"Alright, I get it," she muttered, standing up. "You haven't got the mean bone. Whatever. Don't' complain then is all I'm saying."

A low grumbling sound from deep in his chest met that comment.

Deciding to ignore him she began getting ready for bed. Once she was dressed in a pair of comfortable sleep wear she settled down into bed with Wicker stretched out on one side. Ten minutes later she was still wide awake despite how exhausted she felt.

Moon Spell was on her mind.

Meeting her father when she was nine and the events that followed had, over the years, caused her to suspect that the choices a person made wasn't always their's to make. Freewill or preordained? The question was forever on her mind. Even more these days since coming across the Moon Spell legend.

It wasn't a matter of belief in a higher power, of gods or a single deity but since learning Wicker was a guardian, her guardian, it sometimes felt like her choices, her freewill, was all irrelevant. Like meeting her father in a small, unknown village in the heart of America. Some might think it was a happy accidental coincidence but Abby wasn't so sure of that. She believed that the _fates_ directed her that day because she needed Draco's influence for whatever lay ahead of her.

What lay ahead for her?

The million dollar question and she had no answer.

Wicker scooted closer, sensing her inner turmoil no doubt. Absently she scratched between his ears. She could recall, with vivid detail, the day she'd learned Wicker was more than her doggie companion. It began only as a way for Wicker to communicate what he knew of Hermione's disappearance but turned out to be much more.

The spell hadn't lasted much longer then a day, but in that single day, Abby had discovered that destiny, prophecies and choices were not always as they appeared. Unknown to Draco and later Hermione, Abby had talked a long time with Wicker that day. He hadn't revealed much; afraid if he did his goddess would remove him and assign another to Abby.

Despite the dictate forbidding him to speak with her or anyone, Wicker had agreed to answer what he could. Unfortunately, most of the hurled questions she shot his way had gone unanswered. What she had learned, however, plagued her thoughts, even her dreams. More so in the last few months than ever before.

As much as she didn't want to admit it, there was only one change that would account for the increase, Moon Spell. Was the necklace somehow involved in whatever she was fated to play a part in?

She had come across the myth while researching a curse in Romania. A family believed that a gypsy woman had cursed them all centuries ago and wanted to know of a way to break it. Abby had investigated the matter and learned that there was no curse. Of course, as in most cases, the family refused to believe her.

She couldn't do anything about that. They could or could not decide to take her word. Their choice.

Choice. That's what all this thinking really boiled down too. She didn't feel as if she had a choice. Ever since reading about Moon Spell she felt compelled to learn all she could, even to seek the necklace out. It was as if she was connected to the legend by invisible bands.

Coming home, she had hoped would help a little. Instead she'd come home to hear her father and Harry discussing the very thing she was trying to get away from. No matter where she went, what she did, she was constantly reminded of Moon Spell's existence.

Was that freewill? She didn't think so. She wanted a choice. She wanted to be able to walk away if she chose too. Harry had been given a choice. He could have walked away, could have left the wizard world in the hands of Lord Voldemort.

Did he? Did he really? She tried to ignore the little voice inside her head but it was persistent. Harry wasn't able to walk away because of the person he had become but had he been less caring, he could have walked away. So yes, he had a choice. His personality had boxed him in, not predestined choices.

She didn't feel as if she had any choice. It felt as if she was being shoved, pushed and yanked in the direction a higher power wanted her to go in. Shouldn't she get a choice? Didn't she get a say in which path she took and what detours she meandered?

Was a higher power controlling her actions, her decisions? Just the thought made her stomach tighten into knots. She didn't like the idea of some deity playing inside her head, of making choices for her that she might not have made. She wanted control of her life, the end.

Still, she had to allow a certain amount of doubt. After all, she didn't feel coerced. Not yet. It felt more like someone was tossing one sign after another her way as if to say, _Hello, this is what you need to think about_. If, for the sake of argument, no one was forcing her into anything she didn't want to do, that person was still being less then subtle in what path they wanted her to take.

If she believed that Moon Spell was that path then she also had to allow that the necklace was real, did have power and needed to be found before it landed in the wrong hands. Magic, ancient or new, could be deadly, even apocalyptic, in the wrong hands. If she was going to let herself believe that, then she was also going to have to accept that searching for the necklace might lead her into danger. Only she didn't want to think about that possibility.

After all, she'd been raised on Harry Potter's youth and his fight against the darkest wizard to walk the earth in this century. Right, danger was sometimes unavoidable but damn it, she wasn't going to actively seek something that might place her in danger. Harry, at least, had been fighting for a worthy cause. What was she doing? Finding the necklace, other then boosting her career, wasn't going to change the world. Was it?

Something to consider but not tonight. She was restless and tired, unable to relax enough to fall asleep. After changing positions, beating her pillow and changing positions once again, Abby sighed. "Tonight is just one of those nights," she whispered to Wicker.

He woofed softly, his eyes slanted slightly in the moonlight, giving him a more defined wolfish look.

Rolling over to the side, she sat up and swung her legs around. When Wicker stirred she waved him back down. "Stay. I'm going to outside to the tree. I'll be fine."

After slipping into a robe, she slid her feet into a pair of house shoes and left her room. Having a bedroom at the back of the house, near the winding back staircase, made it easy to sneak down and out. Hadn't been all that easy when she'd been younger though, she thought with wry amusement. Back then, her parents had seemed to have radar where she was concerned.

The stairs led into the annex off the kitchen, which in turn had a door leading outside. At the back of the property, near a low wrought iron fence was a tall Weeping Willow. The branches drooped low, kissing the ground and providing a curtain around the trunk. Inside the cocoon, Abby felt as if she was in another world.

Since her parents had purchased the property and moved them here, the tree had become hers. Her parents even referred to it as Abby's Tree. She had started coming here whenever she wanted to be alone or if she needed to think. One of the many things she had missed since leaving home was her tree and the privacy it gave her.

This, she thought with a heavy sigh, was home. Leaning back against the trunk she closed her eyes and let the night wash over her. The scent of earth and soil filled her nostrils, a comforting smell because it reminded her of family. In the distance, an owl hooted and she smiled. She had never had an owl as she'd had Wicker but she still enjoyed the majestic birds. Cool night air bathed her skin, relaxing her as nothing else could.

Within minutes she was sound asleep.

Dappled sunlight beaming in through the tiny opening the leaves and branches formed woke her. Groggily she lifted her eyelids, blinked and blinked again. Sometime during the night she had fallen sideway, so that she lay curled up beside the trunk. Someone, her mother no doubt, had come out and covered her with a thin quilt.

Stretching, Abby worked out the kinks in her muscles. With a wide yawn that ended in a groan of satisfaction with the pull of bone and muscle. Spending the night beneath the blanket of her favorite tree had been just the thing she needed. She felt refreshed, relaxed and ready to face the day.

She was also hungry.

Entering the house through the annex she was in time to hear the whining voice of her youngest sister.

"But mum, I have to have that robe. All my friends have one; some have even more than one. Anamarie has four and -"

"Kimber," her mother cut in curtly. "You know very well that just because your friends have something does not mean you have to have it. Your father and I have to both agree and at this time we don't think you're in need of any new clothes. You already have a closet overflowing with dresses, shirts and only heaven knows what else. Half of which you wore once and never again. Now, I don't want to hear another word on the subject, understood?"

Sounding grumpy, Kimber muttered, "Yes, mum."

Coming into the kitchen, Abby spotted her mother first. Hermione smiled a welcome. "Morning, Abby."

"Morning, mum." Abby sat beside her sister. "Morning, Kimber."

Kimber grumbled something indistinct which only made Abby's smile widen. Hermione noticed and winked. Holding out her hands she said, "I'll take that."

Abby passed her the folded quilt. "Thanks, mum."

"You're welcome." Hermione smoothed the blanket across her lap. "I was up and saw you heading for the tree. When you didn't come out after an hour I figured you'd fallen asleep or snuck away."

Abby grinned widely. "I haven't snuck out since dad caught me the one and only time I did try."

"Hmm," Hermione hummed in amusement. "Too true. Anyhow, I thought you might get chilled so I covered you."

"Appreciate it, mum, really I do," Abby said sincerely.

Kimber stood at that point, dumped her bowl in the sink and stalked out of the room. Abby raised a brow questioningly and Hermione said, "She's bit peeved with me. Want's new robes but she has so many already. I really don't' think she needs more. Even if they are designed by some new hotshot designer."

Plucking out a muffin from the breadbasket Abby asked, "What new designer?"

"Someone calling themselves Flip of all things," Hermione replied with a snort. "What sort of name is that? Flip? Anyhow, he has all sorts of new designs that the kids are crazy about. Robes that look like dressed, robes that are short and can be worn with a muggle skirt or jeans. There's more but once I realized what Kimber was hinting around at I stopped listening."

Abby smiled and said knowingly, "So which one did you get her?"

Hermione scowled but ruined it a moment later by grinning. "We've gotten her two, actually. For her birthday."

"A month away," Abby pointed out. "She'll be pressing you even harder within three days."

Hermione sighed. "I know it."

Taking pity on her mother she offered, "I'm heading to Diagon Alley with Aria later today. I'll pick up one or two designer robes for Kimber. Early birthday gifts since I won't be here for the big day."

"Spoiling her will…get you far where Kimber's concerned," Hermione admitted with another sigh. "Just don't get the dressy robe with the red and purple hearts or the blue one with lightening bolts."

"Right," Abby said, tucking the information away. Finishing off her muffin she swallowed, helped herself to a sip of her mother's tea and said, "I'd better go up and get myself ready for the day. I'll catch you later, mum."

Almost two hours later Abby was walking along the path leading to her grandparent's home. She hadn't even made it to the gate when Aria was flying up the walk. She snatched Abby's arm, turned her about and started leading them both away as fast as their legs would carry them.

"What the…?"

"Just keep walking," Aria urged in a grouchy tone.

Abby kept her silence until they reached the end of the lane, turning right toward the local transport station. "What was that all about?"

Aria's lips thinned and her eyes, the same silver as Draco's, darkened. "Mum's acting like a lunatic. Ranting about how I'm never home and when I am I'm sleeping. I explained, again, that I'm an intern, which means long hours and hard work. Instead of understanding she goes on and on about how I don't have to work. I'm an heiress and blah, blah, blah."

"She loves you," Abby offered, trying to keep her expression even.

"Right," Abby replied with narrowed eyes. "You're lucky I didn't let you get inside. When I told her I was meeting you for a shopping trip she stopped lamenting on my horrid habits and started on yours."

All amusement fled. "Oh God! Thank you for that save."

"You are welcome my dear niece," Aria said gracefully.

Abby snorted but didn't comment. Instead she asked, "What do you know about a designer calling himself Flip?"

Sounding grieved, Aria groaned out, "Please tell me you are not jumping on that bandwagon?"

"Nope. Kimber," Abby replied in explanation. "She's hounding mum and dad for robes by this guy. I'm picking her up a couple as early birthday gifts."

"Should have known it was Kimber," Aria muttered. "My youngest niece is a walking fashion show."

"Obsessed is the word I use," Abby joked. "Anyhow, that means I have to add it to my list. Exactly what are you heading to Diagon for?"

"I need to hit Fred and George's shop," Aria replied as she started rummaging around inside her purse. "I promised Lucian a few things."

"Don't let mum or dad know that," Abby warned.

"Do I look stupid?" Aria asked. "Wait. Don't answer that. I already know what you'll say."

Abby chuckled and didn't bother denying anything. "Gringotts has to be my first stop but other then that I'm open."

Aria's head was practically buried inside her purse as she said, "Me too. I need a few potion ingredients and I have to get to Eyelop's for treats and such."

"Sounds like we'll be hitting every store Diagon Alley has to offer," Abby replied just as Aria exclaimed, "Ah-ha," and pulled something from her purse.

Abby ignored her aunt and said, "I want to get to Uncle Harry's for lunch, too."

"Better call and make reservations." Aria's voice was muffled and garbled due to the thin wallet like item she was holding between her teeth.

"What?" Abby asked in surprise. "Why would I need to make reservations? I didn't think Poppin' Fresh Eats was that sort of place. At least it wasn't when I was a kid."

"Harry's business took off like a rocket. Had too many people showing up and not enough tables." Aria took the wallet from her mouth. "Harry told me once he didn't like the idea of making his customers reserve a table but it was that or long lines as others waited for an open table."

"Well, I guess I'm a little out of loop," Abby muttered. "We'll stop there first and make sure there's a lunch spot available."

"Sounds good," Aria agreed. "Hey, I wanted to ask you about this vacation thing. Two weeks ago when we talked you said you were taking three months off and now I hear you're leaving again at the end if this month. What gives?"

Abby shrugged. "The cottage I wanted to rent while in Dunning was available early. The other reservation cancelled."

"So," Aria dragged the word out. "You have this cottage for…how long?"

"Right now? Six months but I doubt it will take me the entire six months to complete my research." Abby shrugged. "I can play tourist too."

"Hmm." Aria was quiet for a moment. "I think there's more to it then you're saying but I won't push."

Relived, Abby said, "Thank you."

"No problem." Aria finished doing whatever it was she was doing with her purse, zipped it closed and slung it over her shoulder. "Anyhow, I didn't bring it up for that reason. I have some vacation time coming. Actually, my internship ends in two weeks and I plan on taking a long, needed rest. What do you say to me joining you in Ireland?"

Abby opened her mouth, closed it and then tried again. "Why?"

"Not for the reason you're thinking," Aria growled. "I'm not Draco. I know you can handle yourself. I just need some time away. I thought you might like the company for those times you come up from the bottom of your books and such."

"Aren't you planning on filling Healer Proctors place?" Abby asked, recalling Aria mentioning it not too long ago.

"Actually no." Aria shrugged. "I've been thinking and I'd like to start a clinic, one of those like you told me about that Muggle's have."

"Really?"

Arai nodded. "Yeah. Wizards and witches have St. Mungo's but not everyone can afford the services and since the magical world has yet to think about health insurance, I know a clinic will benefit the community."

"You don't have to convince me," Abby told her. "I think it's a brilliant idea. Have you visited a muggle clinic? Asked questions and -"

"I have and there's still a lot of kinks I have to work on, but that's all for later," Aria said. "First I rest, relax and have fun. Then I'll worry about the future."

Abby placed an arm around Aria's shoulder and started to say she'd be pleased to have her as company in Ireland. The words got lost before they could get out when she happened to look up and see a stranger watching them.

He was leaning up against one of the trees lining the dirt lane, his arms crossed over his chest, one foot on the ground, the other against the tree trunk. A dark blue t-shirt and worn jeans did nothing to hide his well formed arms and chest. He wasn't thick with muscle. If he was, she might have been able to look away since the bodybuilder type had never been appealing. He looked mysterious, dangerous and sexy. Abby's heart pattered a little faster.

Drawing closer, Abby started making out other details. Like the color of his hair and its length. It was the color of midnight and mussed, giving him that straight from bed look Abby found attractive. His face was sharp angles and sculptured planes. His eyes were the most startling thing about him. As black as his hair it almost appeared as if he had no pupil. The eyes increased his danger appeal…and his sexiness.

His lips - very kissable lips too - were pulled into a tight grin that made him look…mean, hard, cold.

From the corner of her lips, Aria asked, "Who's the hunk?"

Whispering her reply, Abby said, "I don't know. I thought you might."

"Nope." Aria snickered. "Haven't ever seen him before day but I'd like to know him."

"He…scares me," Abby admitted. "Want him? You can have him."

Aria slanted Abby a look. "Scares you? Really? It's not like you to base an opinion so quickly."

Abby shrugged. She wasn't able to explain it. Maybe it was the way his eyes had raked over her or the way he stared as if he was looking straight into her soul. His eyes, as black as night, were so intense, so very direct she almost felt dizzy looking at him. With a tiny shudder and her heart thumping loudly in her ears she rapidly walked by him.

She kept up the increased pace, resisting the urge to glance back, until they rounded the curve in the lane. Aria, on the other hand, turned to look over her shoulder. Her inattentiveness caused her to stumble a bit. Thankfully she didn't fall. With a giggle she twisted back around and jogged to catch up with Abby.

Around the curve, Abby slowed. Aria shot her a concerned look but thankfully didn't say anything. A few minutes later they arrived at the Apparation point.

In Diagon Alley, Aria asked, "Poppin' Fresh Eats?"

Absently, trying to shake the chill sweeping over her like a cold wind, she said, "Yeah."

Weaving in and out of the other shoppers walking the street, Abby and Aria headed for Harry's restaurant. As they made their way, Abby constantly scanned her surroundings but other then noticing the slight changes since her last trip here, she saw nothing unusual.

At one point, when she was gazing into the window of the Broomstick shop, she thought she saw the dark eyed stranger. When she whirled around, however, no one was there. Even a quick look down the alley between the two buildings showed nothing and no one lurking in the shadows.

Abby was still wondering if she'd imagined seeing him when Aria snagged her arm and started dragging her along. "Come on, Abby. I swear you gawk like a new witch every time we come here."Abby went willingly but she kept her eyes peeled for the stranger. She had the oddest feeling that she had not seen the last of him.


	5. Chapter 5

_**Master**_

_**Chapter Five**_

_**Over the next week Abby didn't forget about the stranger but she did manage to place him in the dark corners of her thoughts. Family and friends kept her occupied and busy, so much so that thinking about anything but what was happening in the next minute or so was out of the question. Each day she spent with family or friends, catching up and each night she fell into bed too tired to think.**_

_**She spent the day with her grandparents, pleasing Narcissa Malfoy-Watkins by pretending to be the perfect lady. Another day was spent with the Potter's. It took her five days to work her way through the Weasely clan. It would have taken her longer but Mr. and Mrs. Weasely were away on vacation. Charlie was also away, as was George and his family.**_

_**When she wasn't visiting family she was catching up with old friends. She even spent a day at Hogwarts, visiting with her old professors along with Lucian and Sidra. Those two had been thrilled because they'd each been given a pass from classes and had been given permission to head into Hogsmeade with Abby.**_

_**In less then a week she would be leaving once again. Thankfully most of the arrangements had been taken care of before she'd even come home. There was simply a matter of booking the flight and securing a rental car for an extended period of time.**_

_**At the moment, she was sitting on her bed, cross legged, with a pen in one hand and the phone in another. The car agency had placed her on hold so while she waited, she was writing out a list of items she still needed to get and of things she still needed to do.**_

_**She should have replenished her supplies the last time she had gone to Diagon Alley with Aria. Since she hadn't, she was going to have to go shopping again. She needed potion supplies, ink, quills, parchment and pens because when she was out in the field, a quill just wasn't practical. She also needed new drawing pencils, sketch pads and Wicker's favorite snacks.**_

_**Which reminded her, she also had to double check her trunks to make sure all her books and research material was accounted for. Over the last couple of weeks, she'd reviewed a few things and couldn't remember if she'd replaced them after she was done. As for rest of the packing, it could wait until the evening before.**_

"_**I think I hate the packing and unpacking the most," she muttered to herself.**_

_**Setting the list aside, the phone still close to her ear, she laid back and stared unseeingly up at the ceiling.**_

_**She loved her work. It combined what she enjoyed with her heritage, giving her a perspective most couldn't claim. Her research didn't just mean digging into the past because the things she researched had three things in common. Everything she checked out was considered a myth and had some basis in the Muggle or Wizarding worlds. Sometimes both.**_

_**As far as she was concerned, she was a part of both worlds. Her mother had been a Muggle born. Her father a pure blood. She fell somewhere in between and was proud of each half of her heritage.**_

_**Waiting for the agent to return to the phone was giving her too much time to think because predictably her thoughts turned to Moon Spell. Things felt different, as if forces beyond her control had been activated by something she'd done or said. She only wished she knew what because she felt as if she was floating in a pool without a life jacket.**_

_**The same thoughts kept twisting around inside her head. Circling around and around, always coming back to the same thing. She knew nothing new and so couldn't add to the inward debate. It was like having a broken CD inside her head, one that skipped along repeating the same phrase again and again.**_

"_**It's annoying," she mumbled aloud."What's annoying?"**_

_**Startled, Abby jumped and let out a small squeal. Her father chuckled and she scowled but the small curl at the corner of her lips said she wasn't actually mad. Waving him inside, she said, "Waiting. I've been on hold for almost ten minu - "**_

"_**I'm sorry to keep you waiting, Miss Malfoy, how can I assist you today."**_

_**Abby quickly took care of the rental and ended the call. Tossing the phone on the bed she asked, "What's up, dad?"**_

"_**Your mother and I are heading out. It's our weekly dinner with the Potters." Leaning casually against the doorframe, he added, "Your mum wanted me to ask if you had plans?"**_

_**Abby made a face but didn't answer right away. Her father had aged well over the years. His hair was untouched by gray and still as blonde as it had been in his youth. His skin was still smooth and unlined except for the crinkles around his eyes that said he laughed a lot. Of course, he wasn't all that old considering he was only in his forties. In fact, now that she thought about it, both her parents still looked young. Young enough that it was no wonder people were surprised to learn they had a twenty-three year old daughter.**_

"_**What are you grinning about?" Draco demanded.**_

"_**Nothing," Abby said evasively. "I'm spending the evening doing some work. Aria mentioned she might drop in later but I'm not counting on it."**_

_**Draco nodded a warm and knowing grin on his face. "You just don't want to tag along with your mother and me."**_

"_**That too," she admitted honestly.**_

_**He chuckled. "Don't worry, I won't tell your mother."**_

"_**Thank you," Abby replied with a wink. "You and mum have a nice evening. Is Kimber tagging along or is she staying home?"**_

"_**She's with the grandparents," Draco answered. **_

_**Abby lifted a brow. "She's actually missing time spent with Anamarie?"**_

"_**Anamarie isn't home either," Draco explained. "She's with Fred or maybe it was Bill. Whichever. She's spending the evening with one of her various uncles."**_

"_**Ah." Abby nodded her understanding. "Well, you and mum be sure to have fun."**_

_**Draco agreed and after coming into the room and giving her a hug and kiss goodnight, he said, "Stay out of trouble."**_

_**Looking around as if searching for someone, she said, "Aria's not here so I think I can manage that for one evening."**_

_**Up went that single eyebrow. "So it was Aria who instigated all those late night parties and what not?"**_

"_**Hmm. I think I'll plead amnesia."**_

_**Draco chuckled, planted a second kiss on the top of her head and started out. "Have a pleasant evening, sweetie."**_

"_**You too, Dad. Give mum my love."**_

"_**Will do. Love you, kid."**_

"_**Love ya, dad."**_

_**When Draco was gone Abby's smiled slipped from her face. Keeping things from her parents wasn't easy and wasn't something she normally did. Never before had she felt a need to keep secrets but telling them about Moon Spell and how she felt was almost asking for trouble.**_

_**As much as she loved her parents, she felt that this was something she needed to do without their interference. Draco, especially, would jump in and try to take over if for no other reason then to protect his daughter. It wasn't that she didn't appreciate his concern, but since learning about Wicker there were times when her dad could be a little protective.**_

_**The protectiveness was ingrained so deeply in his character; she doubted he was even aware he was shielding her. Though he did the same with her siblings, he was overprotective when it came to Abby. At times it made her feel warm, secure and loved but there was also times when she wanted to scream and stomp her foot in frustration.**_

_**Until she understood more of what was happening, she was hesitant in telling Draco. Hermione she might have trusted not to take action but her mother would feel as if she had to tell Draco. So telling Hermione wasn't an option either. Besides, she didn't want to worry them.**_

"_**I'll tell them when I have too and not before," she decided out loud.**_

_**Wicker, lazing on the lounge chair beside the window glanced over and made a woofing sound. Though he wasn't allowed to speak with her, over the years Abby had become so attuned to him she didn't have to hear him to know what he was saying.**_

_**Glowering at him she growled, "You be quiet. I didn't ask for your opinion."**_

_**He seemed to almost hiss at her so she jumped up from the bed and stalked toward the door. "I said nothing from the peanut gallery. I'm going for a walk."**_

_**Watching her go, Wicker snuffled a little. His light blue eyes glowed with love, concern and just a bit of fear.**_

_**Outside Abby didn't go far. She followed the garden path until she came to the very edge where a lone stone bench sat. Sitting down she took a deep breath, trying to clear her head.**_

_**Evening was falling into night, turning the sky a deep indigo while the first sparkle of stars started to peek through. The air was cooler, though not cold and as always, it eased the tightness in her chest and let her breath easier. She could smell the richness of the flowers as they perfumed the night air and hear the call of crickets.**_

"_**Why couldn't I have been normal?" she grumbled. "Why can't Wicker tell me more?"**_

_**A split second later she scratched the thought. Wicker had told her as much as he was allowed, as much as he dared. She couldn't demand more, not if she wished to keep him with her and she did. **_

_**Besides, she did understand why he wasn't allowed to say more. He couldn't influence her in any way and telling her too much might very well do that. He had to remain a neutral observer, there only to keep her safe. Keep her safe from a destiny she wasn't all to keen to participate in, not if it meant she didn't have an actual choice.**_

_**After all, wasn't it possible that her entire life wasn't one major shove in the direction some mysterious goddess wanted her to go? Her profession was one large question mark. Had she really chosen to become a mythologist or had invisible hands pointed her in that direction? Was she a child of destiny? Created and designed for this single purpose?**_

_**How dramatic was that thought? Now she was turning into the queen of drama. Pathetic.**_

"_**Too many questions. Not enough answers."**_

_**Sighing in annoyance she leaned into the back of the hard bench and turned her face to the sky. **_

_**She needed answers but how was she going to get them? She couldn't just perform a spell as her father had on Wicker. Doing so would likely cause his goddess to take notice. That was something Abby wanted to avoid.**_

_**Wicker was family. There was no way she was risking some trumped up goddess coming around and sweeping Wicker from her life. In the non-human department he was her best friend. He'd been at her side since she was barely out of diapers. Niveus wasn't going to find a reason to snatch him away.**_

"_**Wait a second," she breathed as an idea began to form. "I could summon her and… No, wouldn't work. I don't know how to summon an ancient goddess and even if I did, I might just be borrowing trouble."**_

_**Not that Niveus was a real goddess. At least according to Wicker she wasn't an actual god but even then it didn't make much of a difference. She still held more power over Wicker then Abby did even if her magic was no greater then Abby's.**_

_**Did she really believe that? Did she honestly believe that an immortal being held not more power then she did? If she was no more powerful than Abby, how had she lived for centuries? How had she created suspectors? How was she able to know hundreds of years in advance who needed the guidance and protection of a suspector?**_

_**Abby shook her head. "Whatever her power, she holds Wicker over my head."**_

_**Tossing out the idea of summing Niveus, Abby considered what other options she might have in getting answers. Nothing came to mind. There simply wasn't another way.**_

"_**Not an air head here," she murmured to herself encouragingly. "If there's a solution I'll think of it."**_

"_**What to do, what to do?" she chanted. "If I can't demand Niveus' attention, there has to be something I can do."**_

"_**Are you crazy?"**_

_**Abby screamed.**_

_**A small entered the darkened hall, once known as the Grand Hall, though the name hadn't been used in many years. The castle, or what was left of it, had long ago fallen to ruin. Half the stone lay in crumbling layers in what had once been a magnificent courtyard. What was still standing was close to decaying and smelled of mold and must.**_

_**The scent stung his eyes and nose, making them both water. He didn't like having to come inside the castle. Wanted to leave seconds after stepping inside but to do so would incur the Master's wrath and that was something he was less willing to do. He preferred no pain in his life. Liked it far better then what would happen if he displeased the Master.**_

_**Torches, dim and guttering, lit the room just enough to cast long, misshapen shadows, which danced and slithered like living things. You could place a hundred torches, could fill the room with a hundred lights and it would still a dark and gloomy place. There was nothing of its former glory.**_

_**The once splendid banners and tapestries hung it tattered ruins, the beautiful stitch work indistinguishable. What had once been gorgeous and carefully woven rugs lay buried beneath rubble and dirt so thick you could have been standing outside. Tall, intricately detailed columns had once lined the length of the hall but over half had crumbled with age until only piles of rubble remained.**_

_**The servant despised the decay and filth though in truth he blended in rather well. The ugliness around him might have made him wrinkle his nose in disgust but so did looking in the mirror. His face was lined with a hundred pock mocks, his nose was bulbous and red from years of drink and his eyes were small, beady mud colored balls.**_

_**Bushy brows that badly needed to be trimmed stuck out at odd angles and gave him a crazy look. Puffy cheeks caused him to appear fatter than he truly was because in reality he was nothing more then skin and bone. Walking was difficult and made him look lopsided as one leg was shorter then the other. One arm swung freely at his side but the other was held close to his body, curled against his belly and useless.**_

_**He had long ago forgotten what name his mother had given him. These days he went by Konk and had served the Master for over seventy years. His loyalty had given him extra years and he continued his employ in the hopes of obtaining more riches, even immortality.**_

_**His disabled form caused him to move slowly and with difficulty but he finally reached the raised platform at the end of the Grand Hall. Master was here, sitting upon a jewel encrusted throne. It was the only thing that shone in the entire room. Even the master paled in comparison though he also wore dark robes that hid most of his form.**_

_**Konk bowed his head and waited for Master to acknowledge him. Speaking first almost guaranteed Master's whip or worse. No one was to speak until spoken too. Konk had learned this lesson his very first day of service and had never again made the mistake of speaking first. That mistake had caused him the use of his arm. **_

_**One was never to look directly at Master either. Doing so once was the reason his left leg was gimpy. Another lesson learned and the mistake never repeated. Konk was a fast learner.**_

"_**Your report?"**_

_**As always the smooth silky tone of Master's voice surprised him. Why he expected something deeper and rougher he didn't know but he did. Which was the reason, the even, cultured tones never failed to amaze him.**_

_**More amazement settled over him as he got his first look at Master in over twenty years. Young and virile, Master appeared no older than forty and yet Konk new he was much, much older. He was handsome and this too always astonished Konk. Shouldn't a man as cruel and harsh as Master, look the part?**_

_**Clearing his throat he spoke. "Master. She was not there. No one was there."**_

"_**Hmm," Master buzzed. "I suspected that to be the case. What of the other matter?"**_

"_**There is nothing to report," Konk whispered, half expecting a punishing blow. Nothing happened and he relaxed a little. "What are your instructions?"**_

_**Master stood and began pacing. As he did, he spoke though he did so only out of habit and not because he expected Konk to respond. "I cannot be hasty. If I act too soon I'll lose everything. Can't let that happen not when I've waited for centuries for this. I won't jeopardize my plans."**_

_**Another twenty minutes passed as Master continued to pass and mumble to himself. At last he said, "Yes, yes, that will have to do for now." **_

_**Stopping his pacing he turned to Konk. "Go back and wait. Watch the place she's abandoned very carefully. Report anything unusual. By messenger only. I don't want you leaving unless I tell you so directly. Understood?"**_

"_**Yes, Master." Konk inclined his head in short bow. "What of the others?"**_

"_**Tell Henderson I wish to see him," Master said quietly, his voice cold. The sound sent shivers along Konk's spine. "Tell Blake the same."**_

"_**Yes, Master."**_

_**Konk scurried from the hall as quickly as his broken body would allow. Back out in the fresh air he slowed to a more manageable pace. As loyal as he was to Master, he had no wish to be around him when the cold, cruel look came into his eyes as it had moments ago. Too many times he had been caught by that look, by the rage that followed. It was with relief that he had avoided being on the receiving end this time.**_

_**Blake was the first of the two men he tracked down. Blake was Konk's complete opposite. As tall as Konk was short, Blake was handsome, well toned and as dumb as swamp scum. The one thing the two men had in common was their looks. Like Konk, Blake was ugly as sin.**_

_**He had small, watery grey eyes, a thick bull like nose and a mouth far too wide for his face. A scar ran the length of his face, from a hairline, down over his left eye, across his nose and ending at the tip of chin on the right side. He claimed it was a token of his strength. Konk suspected someone had tried to kill the man and failed.**_

_**Blake spotted him and called out, "Hey, Gimpy, what's got you trotting down this way?"**_

_**Konk ignored the despised nickname and said, "Master wishes to see you, Blake."**_

_**As tough and nasty as Blake pretended to be, even he didn't dare make Master wait. Hiding his satisfaction in seeing Blake pale he added, "It's taken me awhile to locate you, Blake. I wouldn't tarry."**_

_**Blake nodded once. "I'll go right now."**_

_**He left so quickly he nearly bowled Konk over in his haste. "Idiot," he muttered softly having no wish for Blake to hear. He had called him something similar once and Blake's backhanded blow and cracked his cheekbone. It wasn't an experience he wanted to repeat.**_

_**He found Henderson in the kitchens, doing his best to sweet talk the cook into bed. The cook was a pretty young thing but was mean and had a heart of ice. Henderson didn't have a chance.**_

_**As he entered, Konk heard the girl say, "Try that again, Henderson and this knife will find its way into your gut."**_

_**Sure enough, the girl had a knife pressed to Henderson's middle. He didn't appear scared, but amused. The chilling smile on the girls face would have sent Konk running. Henderson didn't so much as twitch a muscle. "Ah, you don't mean that, Sonya. You and I, we'd be good together."**_

"_**Sure we will be, when the heavens open up and spit hellfire." Sonya spat sarcastically as she wrenched herself free of his hold. "Get out of here, Henderson before I decide to gut you right now."**_

_**Not wanting to witness any more, Konk cleared his throat and said, "Master has requested your presence, Henderson."**_

_**Unlike Blake or Konk, Henderson was handsome even if he was on the short side. He was also well groomed, with a hair never out of place or a speck of dirt on his clothing or skin. The man took hygiene to a whole new level.**_

_**If Konk had not once witnessed Henderson gut a man while he still breathed, he would have taken the younger man as a pansy. Henderson was nothing of the sort. In fact, he had become one of Master's favorite henchmen. Henderson liked killing but he enjoyed torture even more. Over the years had perfected his skills so well that he could keep a man alive and in pain for hours, days even.**_

_**As Henderson brushed past him, Konk caught a whiff of soap, something spicy and cool. He shook his head. Among Master's men and woman, only Henderson bathed on a daily basis.**_

_**After Henderson was gone, Konk secured a bowl of soup and sat at the scarred wooden table. **_

_**Thankfully it wasn't until he had finished the simple meal that the screams started. He didn't bother looking toward the sound. A few weeks ago, they had caught a man wandering around the grounds. Konk believed the man had been lost, just as he claimed but Master believed otherwise. The screams meant Master had finally decided to question the poor soul.**_

_**Konk shook his head and left the castle.**_


	6. Chapter 6

Blue Smoke

Chapter Six

Somehow Draco had tuned out the conversation around him. Possibly because he'd gotten lost in thought though for the life of him he couldn't recall what he'd been thinking about. As he tuned back in, he heard Harry say, "…and he ordered the damn soup anyway."

The others at the table chuckled and Draco plastered a stupid grin across his face. Thankfully no one seemed to notice his lapse of concentration. The lull in conversation had Harry pointing a fork in Draco's direction and asking, "Have you spoken to Silver lately?"

For a moment Draco's mind drew a blank. "Oh. No, not recently," he replied as who Silver was came back to him. "Um, let me think…the last time I spoke with him was a little over three weeks ago. That would have been about the time Abby came home."

"Isn't he the man who hired you to find some sort of necklace?" Hermione asked.

"Yes." He added, "I actually gave the file over to Abigail. We had an interesting discussion about the origins of the necklace and as she's going to be in Ireland, she's agreed to look into the matter for me."

Ginny asked, "What necklace is this about?"

Harry replied, "I told you, Ginny, didn't I about Mr. Silver and his magical necklace."

"Ah, yes," Ginny agreed with a slight nod. "You did."

"According to Abigail, the necklace is referred to as Moon Spell," Draco explained further. He gave them an abbreviated version of the myth and finished with, "I'm sure if anyone can locate the elusive thing, Abigail can."

Harry agreed. "Abby did inherit Hermione's brains."

Draco cleared his throat. "I wasn't exactly failing, you know." His comment elicited a laugh from the others. Rolling his eyes he asked, "Why did you ask, Harry, about Silver?"

Harry's lips turned down. "It's just that I haven't seen him in some time. He's a regular but I haven't seen him into the restaurant in over a month."

"Maybe's he just feeling a little under the weather," Ginny suggested. "It is that time of year."

"Perhaps," Harry allowed. "About a year ago he was absent for a few weeks and it turned out he'd been in the hospital with a bad case of pneumonia. It could be that again."

"Why not call around to the local hospitals and ask if he's a patient?" Draco recommended.

"Even if they did, would they tell Harry," Hermione questioned. "Aren't there privacy laws about giving out that sort of information?"

Looking a little sheepish, Harry said, "There is which is why I lied and said I was Silver's nephew. Said I'd come into town to surprise him and was concerned because he hadn't been home in a few days."

Ginny slapped his arm slightly and scolded lightly, "That is just wrong."

"I know it," Harry muttered repentant. "I was concerned because another regular mentioned not seeing him at their weekly bridge game."

"Hmm, that is sort of strange," Ginny murmured, gaining everyone's attention. "Well, he hires Draco to find a necklace that, according to Abby, half the population is looking for. Then he vanishes. I stopped believing in coincidences the year Harry came to Hogwarts."

"You weren't even there that year," Hermione protested.

"No, but Ron regaled me with Harry's exploits."

Shaking his head, Harry said, "I have to agree with Ginny. I don't trust things that seem to be random. Most often those random things turn out to be connected in some way."

Draco couldn't help but agree as well. "I'm not sure I like where this is heading. Especially if we factor in Abigail's dog."

Ginny's eyes went wide. "Actually, I'd forgotten about that, but you're right. It's something we have to consider."

In a low rumble, Draco said, "I haven't forgotten. If this necklace is the start of -"

"You'll do nothing," Hermione cut in sharply. "We've discussed this, Draco. You can't stop destiny from finding Abby. All we can do is be there for her when she needs us."

"Even if this is the beginning," Harry offered, "she still has a choice."

"Does she? I'm not convinced of that."

Harry had gotten to know Draco well over the last thirteen years. He knew that most of Draco's nastiness was a defensive reaction and so didn't take offense at his snappy tone. "She does," he said now. "Everyone has a choice. I did. I could have walked away, left everyone to whatever fate awaited them when Voldemort took over. I couldn't do that though because that's not me, there was too much at stake. Abby's not as invested in this, whatever it is. She'll walk if she can."

Ginny added, "Harry's right. Abby has a choice. We have to be ready and willing to accept her decision, that's what she'll need from us. And help if she asks."

"Abigail's too damn stubborn to ask for help," Draco argued.

"She is not," Hermione scoffed. "She won't risk her life needlessly, Draco. She's not stupid, which means she'll come to us if she needs us."

With a sigh, Draco nodded. "Right. You're all right. She's not so thick headed she'll ignore assistance if she needs it. Besides, she didn't put much stock in the necklace so maybe I'm just overreacting."

"Playing devil's advocate here, what about Silver," Harry asked.

Draco considered and then said, "I have his contact info at home. I'll look into it. If anything feels off, I'll get in touch with you, Harry and then we'll go from that point on."

"Sounds good," Harry agreed.

The conversation moved on to other things and with an effort, Draco managed to put Abby, Moon Spell and Silver on the back burner for now.

"Damn it, Aria, don't sneak up on me," Abby snapped irritably. Placing a hand over her racing heart, she glared. "You freaking gave me a heart attack. Probably knocked ten years off my life too."

Aria chuckled evilly. "Can't have that. Don't want a ghostly niece haunting me to the grave."

"Give me heart failure and you can be sure I'll do just that," Abby promised. "What are you doing here, sneaking around, anyhow?"

"I wasn't sneaking," Aria protested. "Not my fault you were so busy having a conversation with yourself that you didn't hear me. Hell, you were so lost in yourself you wouldn't have heard a Quiditch match if it was happening directly over your head."

"Exaggerate much?" Abby asked dryly. With her heart rate returning to normal, Abby's ire was also dwindling. "You a little hyper this evening. What's got your panties all twisted up?"

Aria rolled her eyes. "My panties are not twisted."

"Oh really," Abby replied skeptically. "Well, if you want to lie…"

"Sarcasm isn't pretty, Abigail," Aria said snidely.

"Neither is that name, _Aunt_ Aria."

When Aria continued to remain silent, Abby shrugged and headed back the way she'd come. Aria would tell her whatever it was that was bothering her when she was ready. Until then, Abby was thinking a little ice cream, topped with a few layers of whipped cream, sounded really good. Oh and she could put one of those brownie cakes under the ice cream.

Her belly rumbled happily with the idea.

"Hey," Aria called out. "Where're you going?"

Over her shoulder, Abby said, "Inside. I'm, thinking an ice cream brownie sounds really good. And inside I don't have to contend with your sour attitude."

"I am not sour," Aria grouched loudly.

Moments later Abby heard the soft patter of Aria as she jogged to catch up. Once she was at her side, Aria said, "Come out with me tonight, Abby. I can't stand being home right now and I don't want to go out alone."

Having reached the house Abby didn't answer right away. She checked the freezer and was disappointed to see there was no ice cream. She went to the breadbox and yanked it open. Inside were the brownies she'd planned to pair with the frozen treat. Well, she didn't have any ice cream but she could still eat a brownie.

After swallowing, she said, "Where do you want to go?"

"A new club," Aria answered immediately, her eyes bright with hope. "Blue Bark or something like that."

"Blue Bark? Really?"

"Or something like it," Aria repeated.

"A dance club?" Abby silently groaned. "Aria, you know I -"

"Please," Aria cried pitifully. "We can go to Ginger's if you don't want to hit the club. She's having a birthday party for her boyfriend or something."

Abby made a face. "Ginger Braden?"

"Do we know another Ginger?"

Shaking her head, Abby finished off the brownie. Aria had only mentioned the party because she knew Abby wouldn't want to go. Abby and Ginger hadn't liked each other since their fifth year when Ginger's then boyfriend had dumped her for Abby. It didn't matter that Abby had never agreed to even a single date with the idiot boy, Ginger still blamed Abby.

"Fine, I'll go to the damn club," she relented with a grumble. "But I swear, Aria, if you leave me for some guy like you did last time I'll hex you."

Aria placed a hand over her heart and said, "I promise that the only time I will willingly leave your side it to dance. I will not ditch you for a guy, no matter how sexy he is."

Seeing as Aria was already dressed to go out, she pulled Abby up the stairs to her room where she plopped on the bed. "Wear something sexy."

"Sexy? I don't need sexy to stand around in an overpriced, over hyped club," Abby groused.

Aria rolled her eyes, stood and gently pushed Abby aside. "I'll find something for you."

An hour later, dressed in a flirty little dress the same shade as her eyes, Abby waited in line with Aria for the chance to get into the club. Blue Smoke (not Bark) was all the rage or so it seemed considering the number of people vying for entrance. Abby had thought of complaining and suggesting they go someplace else, but she was having too much fun watching the antics of those trying to bribe the door guards into letting them inside.

One woman had offered both men a night they wouldn't forget, had even flashed a little extra skin to show how sincere she was. Neither of the bouncers had been impressed and the woman had stalked off in a huff. Another woman with the same offer had actually started shrieking and cussing when her offer was turned down.

Abby was amused.

A couple had dirty danced in hopes of gaining entrance without success. One of the guys in line had thought his girlfriend's beauty and rocking body could get them both inside. The girlfriend was waved inside, he was told to move along. Most of the comers resorted to bribery in the form of cash. The doormen were immune to this as well.

Aria was passing the time by talking with a woman ahead of them. Apparently the woman had been inside the night before and was hoping to get inside again this evening. Aria was asking the woman a million questions, most of which Abby ignored.

In all honesty Abby didn't care if the got inside or not. She was having a blast watching all the antics of those desperate to get in. Who would have thought such a thing could be so entertaining? She certainly wouldn't have thought so.

Aria suddenly grabbed her arm and dragged her forward. Over her shoulder, Aria called, "We're being let in."

Abby wasn't sure she believed it until she looked at the beefy bouncers and saw that they were waved her and Aria inside. Guess she was going to get to see what all the hype was over. Lucky her.

Abby and Aria paused as they entered the club. Abby sensed the bubbling excitement burgeoning in Aria. The emotion was literally visible in the way Aria was grinning and in the way her entire body seemed to quiver. Abby couldn't help but feel some of that excitement as well.

Taking a look around she had to admit the place was better than most if the clubs she'd visited over the last couple of years. In the center was a large granite block devoted to dancing that was slightly raised from the rest of the club. Bodies trembled, gyrated and shook as one massive organism made up of flesh and heat.

On either side of the dance floor was seating. The left contained high tables and long legged chairs. The tables, round, varied in size from seating two to six. The chairs didn't match but somehow flowed and worked together, giving an interesting appeal to the entire theme. On the right of the dance floor was more intimate seating. Small sofa's, chaise lounges and lower, smaller tables lay scattered in what appeared to be a haphazard design. By accident or not, the place was…charming.

Behind the dance floor was the bar. It ran the entire length of the room except for a short opening at each end where the bathrooms were located. Women on the left, men on the right. Barstools provided more seating but only a few people were taking advantage. Wide, curling steps were also in each corner to the left and right of each bathroom.

Looking up, Abby saw an entire second floor. Waist high railings prevented anyone from falling but allowed those upstairs to look down on the dance floor. From where she stood Abby could just make out more tables, stools and a few lounges. Nothing else was visible.

Everything was in shades of soothing blues, subdued yellows and rich reds. Even the flashing, pulsating lighting accented the décor perfectly, adding to the atmosphere rather then distracting from it. Lower lighting gave the illusion of intimacy toward the far corners and walls. Couples, even small groups, were taking advantage if the dimmer lighting. Briefly, she wondered if someone shouldn't tell those people that their grouping, kissing and heaven only knew what else wasn't as private as they might believe.

The music, which was loud enough to give her brain damage, was pumping but she couldn't see a band or even a DJ booth. She did see large, taller then her speakers so assumed that the music source was located on the second floor.

Abby had to admit, the place rocked.


	7. Chapter 7

**Enigma**

**Chapter Seven**

**Aria caught her attention with a light grip on her arm. "Let's get a drink."**

**Abby nodded. "Why don't you find us a table? I'll get the drinks this round."**

**They both made their way over to the tables. As Aria slid into one of the tall chairs she remarked, "This place is so flipping cool."**

**Abby rolled her eyes. "It's a club, Aria. Your drink of choice?"**

"**Something sweet but tart," Aria replied unhelpfully. Her eyes seemed glued to the dance floor.**

**Abby made her way to the bar where she squeezed up to the bar and signaled the guy tending it. A couple of men tried catching her eye but she pretended to be blind. When the bartender reached her, she ordered a Sweetheart Tea, Aria's favorite and a dry martini. **

**On her way back to the table she spotted Aria talking with a guy. Aria's expression was pained and when Abby actually looked at the guy she understood why. The guy was dressed as if he had time wrapped in from the seventies. Even his hair, which was feathered back, resembled something out of the previous century.**

**His jacket was tweed, his pants had some sort of green and brown crisscross pattern with wide bellbottoms and his boots were faux white snake skin with flat heels. The man was either very confident in his looks, which Abby couldn't see from her current position or he was clueless. Abby was leaning toward clueless but wasn't going to hold her breath.**

**Coming up to the table, Abby leaned in close to Aria and studied the man for a quick second. Thin, almost non-existent moustache across his upper lip and a ratty looking goatee detracted from his looks. Milky blue eyes that wrinkled at the corners and his nose was slightly red at the tip. Worse still, he had to be as old as her father, if not older.**

**Slipping an arm around Aria's shoulders, Abby purred, "Hey sweetie, here's your tea."**

**Aria was a quick study. Snatching Abby's hand she cooed, "Thanks baby."**

**Smiling, her eyes sparking with amusement Abby glanced at the man. "Who's this?"**

"**Just a guy that wanted to dance." Abby narrowed her eyes and, still playing along, Aria quickly said, "I tried telling him I couldn't but he wouldn't listen."**

**Turning her hard look on the guy she said, "Are you bugging my girl?"**

"**Your girl?" His tone was skeptical. "I don't believe it."**

"**No? Let me tell you how much I don't care what you believe," Abby barked out. "I will, however, show you exactly how much I hate it when someone tries to poach on my territory."**

**Unimpressed, he snorted. "You're a little bitty thing. No way do you scare me."**

"**Maybe I do."**

**All three of them swung eyes around to the newcomer. Abby audibly gasped. Abby simply looked amused. The man in the tweed jacket, however, looked as if he'd just swallowed a horrible tasting potion. **

**Backing up a step, tweed jacket muttered, "I don't want trouble."**

"**In that case, my suggestion to you is - leave," the stranger replied coldly.**

**The flashback to the past took one last look at Abby, then Aria before spinning about and taking off into the crows. With her heart pounding, Abby foolishly wanted to join him. She hadn't given the sexy but disturbing stranger a thought and yet, here he was, messing with her libido.**

**Aria smiled. "Hey, thanks."**

**His expression inscrutable he said, "No problem."**

**Abby could tell Aria wanted to say more but just then a second man appeared. He didn't even glance their way but immediately began speaking to the hero of the hour. "Damien, what are you doing? I thought…"**

**At that point, he happened to look over and spot Abby. His gaze slid sideways to Aria a second later. Damien (Abby was pleased to know his name) glowered. "I was taking care of a problem."**

"**Oh. Uh-huh." The newcomer didn't seem to be listening. His gaze was still locked onto Aria as if he'd never seen a woman before. Aria seemed to be having the same problem if her open mouth stare was any clue. **

**Abby nudged Aria slightly. It was enough to get Aria to snap her mouth shut. Abby sighed and looked up as if pleading with the heavens. Having an aunt who was only a few months older was odd enough; to have one openly drooling over a man was downright embarrassing.**

**The new stranger stepped forward. Holding out a hand to Aria he introduced himself. "Hi. Nathan Quinton. You are…?"**

**Not very subtle, was he? Aria was no better. "Aria. This is Abby. Would you like to dance?"**

**Nathan gave her a devastating grin. "I'd love to."**

**Within a second Aria was up and walking away, her hand in Nathan's. Shaking her head and muttering mentally, Abby slid onto the chair Aria had just vacated. She was taking a sip of her drink when she remembered she wasn't alone.**

**Sliding her eyes in his direction, Abby watched as Damien sat in the chair beside her. Their knees brushed, that was how closely the chairs were placed at the table. Abby suppressed a shiver.**

**The shiver was soon replaced with irritation because his steady stare was annoying and just a little unnerving. Finally, unable to take another second, she snapped, "What? Have I suddenly grown a huge, fat wart or something?"**

"**Something," he replied lightly. "Don't you want to dance?"**

"**Not my thing," she mumbled, not caring if he heard or not. She was still trying to puzzle out what he meant by 'something.'**

**Despite the blast of music, he heard and said, "Nor is it mine." There was a moment of disturbing quiet and then he asked, "Do you live on Dearing Lane?"**

**Not wanting to be rude but unwilling to tell him where she lived, she only shook her head. In truth, being this close to him was making her…warm. Too warm. He was too damn good looking and her body was reacting in ways she didn't want with him so close. **

**She didn't do flings or one night stands so keeping herself in check was easy, but still she didn't like how attracted she was too him. Especially considering that there seemed to be something…off…about him. Or maybe that was just her imagination. Damn, she didn't know. Wasn't sure she wanted to find out either.**

"**Do you live in that area?"**

"**Interested for a reason," she countered.**

**Seeming at ease he replied, "Curiosity. I saw you and your friend on the road to Quarry Point so isn't it natural to ask."**

**She remembered. To him she said, "That answer isn't really an answer at all. Why do you care where I live? Plain curiosity just doesn't seem to fit."**

**He cocked his head and studied her a moment. "Why are you so secretive? Is it a national security matter? Will agents swoop in and take me out if you tell me?"**

"**I'm not being secretive," she argued. His comments made her feel like a small child who had just been caught with her hand in the cookie jar. She didn't like the feeling. "I don't go around telling perfect strangers where I live. If I did, I think my father would kill me right before he had a coronary."**

**He looked astounded as he asked, "Your father abuses you?"**

"**What? No!" Surprised at his conclusion she exclaimed, "Dad's not mean. If anything he's too protective."**

**He frowned but said, "I see…I think."**

**Deciding to turn the focus from her she asked, "Why were you just standing around that day?"**

"**Waiting for someone." His reply was easy, practiced and she didn't believe him, not entirely. As if to himself he added, "I can't believe it. It's really can't be that easy. Can it?"**

**Curious she inquired, "Are you talking to me or yourself?"**

**Ignoring the sarcasm he asked, "What do you do?"**

"**Huh?" she said stupidly. **

"**Your career," he clarified. "What is it?"**

"**Mythologist," she answered with the truth. She didn't see the point in lying about her career. "What do you do?"**

**He shrugged. "This and that."**

**Abby wrinkled her brow. "That's not an answer."**

**He grinned, showing even white teeth but it was how devilishly sexy the grin made him appear that had Abby sucking in a breath of air. No man should look this good. It just wasn't right.**

"**I do what I need to do and nothing more," he explained which still wasn't much of an explanation but when he added a wink at the end she couldn't help but smile…just a little.**

**Still, she would have liked to have a real answer so stubbornly persisted by saying, "If what you do is -" she smiled tightly "- so top secret, you could have just said so."**

"**Ah, but it wouldn't have been as much fun," he rejoined with a wicked grin. "Especially since that temper suits you well."**

"**Excuse me?" She was sure she'd heard him wrong.**

"**You're a lovely looking woman, as I'm sure you know."**

**She didn't know but that was beside the point. "Are you hitting on me?"**

"**No. Never that," he remarked dryly. "Just stating a fact."**

**Not for one second did she believe him but he was good at hiding what he was thinking so she couldn't be sure. With narrowed eyes she muttered, "Who the hell are you?"**

"**Damien," he replied offhandedly.**

**Since she hadn't meant to ask that question aloud her reply was a little snippy. "I know your damn name."**

"**Well then, I'm no one other than who I am," he replied.**

"**Annoying. Your damn annoying is what you are," she growled. "Do you always talk like that?"**

"**Like what?"**

"**In riddles." She knew she sounded like a royal bitch but she couldn't bring herself to care at the moment. "God, but you're a trial to talk to."**

**His answering chuckle on served to infuriate her even more. "I think I like you Abby, there's nothing…fake, about you."**

"**I haven't got anything to hide so why be fake," she retorted, brushing aside that little voice that said, **_**uh, witch, that's something you're hiding.**_** "I think you have secrets, though."**

"**Don't we all?" was his easy reply. "Even if there tiny, minuscule things, we all have something we don't want the world to know. I'm a private person who simply likes to be left alone."**

**He had her over a barrel with the secret thing but the whole private person thing tugged her the wrong way. "I'm not the one who started this. You came over here so don't go getting your boxers all in a twist about being left alone. I'll be happy to do just that."**

**His sigh was long and hard. "Yeah. I know."**

**A little of the anger that had been building inside her trickled away when she saw his forlorn expression. That and he wasn't accusing her of violating his territory. Still, he was a little irritating. After all, he was the one giving half answers, speaking in riddles and then claiming he wanted to be left alone. The man was a contradiction in terms and aggravating to boot. **

"**Would you like to dance?"**

**Since she was still looking at Damien when she was asked she knew he wasn't the one doing the asking. Standing to the side was a man about an inch taller then she was. His face was round, smooth, with freckles bridging his nose and the apple of his cheeks. Thick spectacles caused his doe brown eyes to have an owlish look. His pointy chin, rather then make him look harsh or weak, gave him an elfish, charming appearance.**

**Smiling a little to soften her denial she said, "No, thank you."**

**As if he was used to rejection his return smile was a little sad but he turned and walked away without pushing the matter. A small part of her felt horrible about turning him down. She hated saying no; it made her feel like a jerk every time she did. It wasn't as if she could explain that it wasn't him but her. Not when it was only a dance he'd been asking for.**

**The truth was, however, that she didn't do much dancing. She came to the clubs for the music and to keep Aria company. She wasn't there to find a date or to dance the night away. Besides, she looked like a fool when she danced or at least believed she did. The last time she'd actually danced was at the end of her seventh year at Hogwarts when the seventh years had a graduation party. Her partner that night had stepped on her toes so often; there hadn't been any need for her to apologize for her less than cool dancing style.**

"**Are you actually upset that you turned him down?" Damien sounded odd, as if he'd swallowed something bile but when she looked at him his expression was smooth. "If turning him down is so upsetting, get up, track him down and dance with him."**

**She shook her head. "I can't dance."**

"**Can't?" he asked doubtfully.**

"**Won't," she snapped. "I won't dance. Is that better."**

**A light came into his eyes, one that Abby didn't particularly like; it spelled trouble - for her. Instinctively she shoved back away from him as far as she could. "I really don't like that look on your face."**

"**No," he said softly. "Most wouldn't."**

**In the next instant he was on his feet and pulling her up into his arms. Without giving her a chance to protest he was leading her onto the dance floor. She tried tugging free but his grip, though not painful, was firm. On the dance floor he spun her around, wrapped his arms around her and pulled her close.**

**Abby stiffened. Being this close to him was causing all sorts of short circuiting in her wiring. When his head leaned in close and his lips brushed her ear she almost dropped to the floor as her knees went weak.**

"**Relax," he breathed against her ear. "It's a slow song. Just move you hips and sway to the beat."**

**Not wanting him to know how he affected her, she said, "Ha! Easy for you to say."**

**She could have sworn he laughed but when she looked up his expression was smooth, emotionless. She wasn't buying it but the longer she stared up at him, the more she forgot about everything else. Her mind simply ceased to function except to think of him, the feel of his arms, the press of their bodies, the heat of him against her.**

**His eyes, as black as night, never wavered from hers. They seemed to suck her in and made her forget that a world beyond her and him even existed. Black onyx and glittering, she could have stared into the depths of his eyes forever.**

**Somehow Abby found the willpower to look away. She only wished she could do the same for how he was making her feel. Her heart was fluttering like a hummingbird against her ribs. Her belly quivered with anticipation and something stronger…desire? Fear? Breathing was difficult, the air felt thick as sludge. It was all so terrifyingly thrilling and Abby wanted no part of it.**

**The song ended and she quickly moved back, out of his arms, away from him. Not trusting herself to look at him, she said, "Thanks." Without another word she scurried away, very much like Wicker with tail between legs.**

**When she reached the table she hastily picked up what was left of her drink and gulped it down. As Aria was still dancing, she drank hers too. She was debating the merits of getting a third street and Damien arrived at her side, glass in hand.**

**Holding it out to her, he said, "Here."**

**Without thought she took it. "How do you do that?"**

"**Do what?"**

"**Know what I want before I do," she accused in puzzlement.**

"**It's not a mystery," he replied evenly. "I wanted a drink and manners dictated I also get one for you."**

"**Right." And if she believed that, she might as well buy that bridge over the Thames she was sure someone had for sale somewhere.**

"**You don't believe me," he remarked astutely, his dark eyes glittering with amusement.**

**How could she? It was like he could read her mind. No one, not her parents or Aria, who was her best friend as well as her aunt, knew her this well. How could he? Yet that was how it felt. It felt as if he knew her better then…, then she knew herself.**

"**Honestly?"**

"**No, please lie to me," he muttered sardonically.**

**Abby ignored the tone and said, "I'm not sure what to believe."**

**It was the truth. There was something there but she couldn't quite put her finger on what that something was. Damien set her on edge even as he heated her blood and made her want things she hadn't wanted since Brian and her and called it quits. **

**He made her want. She was lusting after his body and she didn't do things like that. Attraction was a healthy, normal response. She knew this, accepted it, but what Damien made her feel was harder, hit deeper and that was what bothered her the most. Add to it that she wasn't looking for a relationship and the best thing she could think to do was to avoid Damien. **

**Abby frowned into her glass and tried not to think about her life. It was sort of depressing once she did and so she didn't. Or, at least she tried not to. **

**Of course she wanted to meet Mr. Right, marry and have kids but she wasn't in such a rush that she felt the urge to date every man she thought was cute. Or everyman that tickled her passion button. She was, she believed, a little more mature than that.**

**Besides, she didn't think rushing along in life was a good thing. Her parents had made a muck of things for nearly ten years. Okay, sure, their lives had been a little frantic, what with old Moldy Voldy on the loose, but after, when the war was over, they'd still screwed things up. When - not if - when she fell in love, she was going for the stick with me forever after kind and damn it, that meant taking things slow. And that didn't mean jumping into bed with just anyone who happened to push her buttons.**

**Damien was enough to almost make her forget her own rules. Not a good thing as far as she was concerned. Yep, avoidance was the answer. She'd stick with that even if it did depress her. Stupid feelings!**

**Aria with Nathan at her side came back, distracting Abby from her dark thoughts. Smiling at Aria, Abby was pleased to see the flushed cheeks, starry eyes and rosy lips. It was true that Aria fell in and out of love as quickly as a revolving door but she wasn't promiscuous so Abby didn't begrudge her aunt the emotion. **

**Hell, a part of her envied Aria. She wished she could be that casual about love and life.**

"**Having fun?" Abby asked, already knowing the answer.**

**Aria's head bobbed happily. "I am. You?"**

**Not wanting to spoil Aria's fun, Abby said, "It's been, um, interesting."**

**Thankfully Aria didn't look any deeper then the words. Then again, Aria was busily staring at Nathan so Abby probably could have said she was joining a nunnery and Aria would have happily agreed. Nathan, who was having a low conversation with Damien, also had eyes only for Aria. Good. Aria deserved to have a little fun after all the hard work she'd been putting in over the last couple of years in St. Mungo's.**

**Watching the two men, Abby noticed the differences in them. Damien was dark. Black hair, black eyes, tanned, hard and weaved and air of danger. Nathan was just the opposite. Light blonde hair, light green eyes, pale sun-kissed skin and easy going.**

**Despite the differences, it was easy to see the two men had known each other for a long time. Their body language said they were close as did the easy way they communicated. Abby wondered how long they'd been friends. As long as Aria and her? Longer?**

**They finished their conversation and Abby could see the regret in Nathan's eyes when he looked in Aria's direction. "Sorry, but we've got to go. Maybe you and I can get together sometime?"**

**He sounded so hopeful Abby had to hide a grin. Aria didn't bother to hide hers. She looked thrilled. "Sure. Here's my card. It's got all my contact info on it."**

**Abby got a quick look before Aria handed it over and was relieved to see Aria had altered the card so her Healer status now read, Herbalist. The cell phone number was an amusing touch and she'd have to ask Aria about it later. Not many witches and wizards bothered with muggle technology. Magic messed things up.**

**Abby had a cell phone, but half her work was in the muggle world so she needed a way for those without magic to contact her. If Aria had one, Abby had to wonder why but decided to ask later, when they didn't have an audience. Besides, the thought of Aria carting around a cell phone was amusing and Abby wanted to be able to tease Aria openly. **

**Nathan took the card, glanced at it and then at Damien. If Abby hadn't been watching, she would have missed the exchange as it happened so quickly. What had that been about?**

**Nathan pocketed the card, leaned close and kissed Aria on the cheek. "I'll call you." With those final words he turned and walked away, Damien hot on his heels.**

**Aria gave a long sigh and said, "We might as well head on home too."**

**Abby rolled her eyes.**


End file.
